Donor-conceived children now have the right to identify their genetic parents,
but for some like Joanna Rose the change was too little too late and not
knowing can be "excruciatingly painful"

Joanna Rose’s father, if he is still alive, would be perfectly within his rights to refuse to have anything to do with her. And officially, he can’t be called her father, either. He was a sperm donor at a Harley Street clinic for infertility in the early 1970s, a time when donor anonymity was the norm. Official records as to his identity have been lost, or destroyed. And even if they existed, Rose has no legal right to know who he is.

Rose was first told by her family that she was sperm-donor conceived when she was eight years old, “because it was thought the earlier I knew, the better.” Now 42 and a social sciences postgraduate living in Devon, she had a “tip-off” about the identity of her biological father 15 years ago. She says that legally she cannot explain further; but it was someone who was said to strongly resemble her and to have donated prolifically at the clinic her parents used, around the time she was conceived. Her messages to the man in question trying to find out more, were met with a solicitor’s letter threatening legal action if she made further contact. She has not tried to reach him again.

Not knowing her genetic identity has been “excruciatingly painful” for Rose. “It’s so innate to who you are” she explains. “One of the biggest things I’ve ever wanted is to look my biological father in the eye.” She describes her birthdays as “anniversaries of loss” that her father “wouldn’t even know…and probably wouldn’t even care” about.

Rose has spent much of her life battling for the rights of donor-conceived (DC) people. In 2005, largely due to her efforts, anonymity for sperm (and egg) donors - guaranteed by the Human Fertilisation and Embryology Authority when it was set up in 1991 - was removed and DC children were given the right to identify their genetic parents once they reached 18.

But the new law was not retrospective and for Joanna Rose, and the generation conceived “in the dark ages” before 2005, the change was too little, too late. Around 2,000 DC children were born every year between 1992, when HFEA records started, and 2005, none of whom have the legal right to know the identity of their fathers (or in some cases, mothers). Not all know they were donor conceived: in the past, secrecy was typical. (Even today, couples who use sperm or egg donors are not legally obliged to tell their children, although they are strongly advised to do so). But many of those who do know are now questioning the ethics of donor conception; some go so far as saying the practice should be outlawed.

Alamy

“I don’t think you could ever make donor conception a good practice” says Tom, a 32 year old web developer, who runs a UK support group for DC adults called Tangled Webs UK. “I’d like to encourage people to be more thoughtful about this whole issue. A lot of people don’t want to think about it very deeply - they’d prefer to think that nice, smiling babies come out of this and it makes everything OK.”

No figures exist on how many children were donor conceived informally, outside licensed clinics; but Dee (not her real name) was one of them. A a successful 30-something Londoner working in publishing, she was 29, and had a six-year-old daughter herself when suddenly told by her mother that her father wasn’t her “real” father. Dee felt sick: ”I felt intensely betrayed by her - like a science experiment; like the result of a transaction.”

Dee found out the truth almost by accident; one day she asked her mother - who had separated from the man Dee thought was her father - why he never signed cards and letters as Dad. “She paled and told me I had better sit down”. Her mother told her that after trying unsuccessfully for a baby they had asked a family friend to donate his sperm - “he handed it over in a condom during his lunch break”. Dee had grown up knowing the family friend, who died when she was 13. His daughter was a friend of Dee’s, who had known since childhood they were half-sisters and told to keep it a secret. She discovered that several other family members and friends also knew. “ It was 'like I was in The Truman Show’”, Dee says.

Alamy

Understandably Dee, like many of the 'donated generation’ as they call themselves, are questioning their parents’ choices. According to a 2010 American study, “My Daddy’s Name is Donor”, which surveyed nearly 500 18-45-year-olds conceived by sperm donation, “about half of donor offspring have concerns about or serious objections to donor conception itself, even when parents tell their children the truth.”

The study also reported that “young adults conceived through sperm donation are hurting more, are more confused, and feel more isolated from their families. They fare worse than their peers raised by biological parents on important outcomes such as depression, delinquency and substance abuse. Nearly half are disturbed that money was involved in their conception.” Some, says the report, fear 'being attracted to or having sexual relations with someone to whom they are unknowingly related.”

Around the world, campaign and support groups for DC people have sprung up – including Tangled Webs UK, Anonymous Us in the US, and Donor Offspring Europe; while this June will see the first ever conference for DC adults, in Melbourne, Australia. Groups such as these are demanding more awareness - by professionals and by those considering the use of donors - of the potential emotional impact on any offspring, even for today’s DC babies, who will have the right to know their genetic identity.

Donor activists are also critical of the money which changes hands in sperm and egg donation: although in Britain, compensation for egg donors is usually capped at £750 and £35 for sperm, there is nothing to stop British people donating overseas for more money; while in the USA donors can be paid uncapped amounts. There is also unease about the issue of unknown half- siblings: in Britain currently, a sperm donor is limited to helping create up to 10 separate families of children, but in the US, there is no such limit – so there may be dozens or even hundreds of half-siblings from one sperm donor. For many there is a real fear report of 'being attracted to or having sexual relations with someone to whom they are unknowingly related.”

The HFEA meanwhile, is about to launch a pilot support service for DC people, and how those people feel when they grow up is a budding field of academic research. “We really want everyone who needs it to get the best help possible,” says a spokesperson from the HFEA. “When donor-conceived people decide to find out more about their donor, they may not be prepared for the sometimes intense emotions they will go through.”

Tom set up Tangled Webs UK in 2005, after discovering 11 years ago he was sperm-donor conceived. “My mother decided it was the right time to tell me, for no particular reason.” Suddenly, Tom remembers, “I didn’t recognise my own face. I didn’t know whose eyes were looking back at me. I had all this man’s features, I just didn’t know who he was – it was traumatic.”

With the clinic having no information or records on his biological father Tom joined the Donor Conceived Register, a charity which aims to bring as many donor parents and children together as possible, through DNA matching. Remarkably, this method enabled Tom to be reunited with his donor father, who had also joined. The reunion though, is exceptional - so far, only five parent-child matches have been made through the Register since it was set up in 2004. Father and son had a strong physical resemblance and Tom felt they got on well. “He told me he didn’t have children of his own and had donated only once. He joined the register because he wanted to find out the outcome.” But for Tom, it did not have a happy ending. He says: “I was looking for fatherhood figure, but he wanted to keep it distant.” The two met several times but are no longer in contact.

Other DC adults tell a happier story. University students Harry and Octavia Cobb are, at 21, believed to be among the oldest egg-donated twins in the UK. They grew up in Scotland, and their parents – Ali, a charity counsellor and Jonathan, an investment director - were always open about their origins. Harry believes that family is about nurture more than nature. 'Mum’s still Mum; I was still inside her, she raised me, she gave me everything I needed. The only thing that I don’t share with her is genetics, but it’s not that big a deal.’

Harry's twin sister Octavia - Jay Williams

Olivia Montuschi of the UK’s Donor Conception Network, which represents families with DC children, herself has two grown-up children thanks to sperm donation, and argues that third-party reproduction can work if parents are open. The key, she believes, “is parents acknowledging the implications of what they’re doing. Some children wonder: 'Who is the real parent?’ It’s understandable. What’s important is that parents understand these feelings and don’t push them under the carpet.’ She feels it important for prospective parents to only consider using donors through a licensed clinics, rather than by informal arrangement. The HFEA points out that its licensed clinics may be able to provide prospective parents with information such as a donor’s ethnic group, physical characteristics, medical history and whether or not they have children.

The infertile man who raised Rose as his daughter is now dead but she says: “It’s easy to be seen as not compassionate about infertility or not loving the parents who raised you, but that’s unfair.” Now herself a mother of two children aged two and four, Rose would firmly advise any gay, single or infertile friends who want children to adopt or foster rather than use donors. She says she is struck at the important role of genetics. “As a mother I’m very aware that both nature and nurture matter, but I see my traits in [my children] - and I’ve got my [biological] father’s grandchildren, whether he likes it or not.”